It has been a bit crazy …..

Firstly I had to go into hospital for a a few shots of iv antibiotics /potassium and got released on Easter Saturday.

Then I went to see my awesome Patsy. She who met me way back in 1995 to support our reeling family after tragedy had struck.

Our family GP felt she was most suited to help us professionally.

Well only two meetings passed and she suggested we did not need her professionally but could we be friends? And so it started. A mad crazy lovely friend. She knew just how crap things can get and yet still we can all get through it . With laughter, wine and tears too.

I had the most wonderful afternoon with her. Our last afternoon together. Her funeral is next week. We will be there to celebrate an amazing, resilient, funny lady and my total rock.RIP PATSY

I also had a fabulous short break to France with the infamous Yellow Cardies, taking with me every drug I could possibly cram into my one cabin bag. Just as well we met some pilgrims on the flight to Lourdes. (Our ever awesome SW had moved out near there last year ).

What pilgrimage were we on? asked a fellow passenger…Father Perfect Parish Priest .

Ah. Said MJ. Ryan air…..!

Great man, he was accompanying some pilgrims. Taking note of our duty free gifts for our hosts, he declared ours was clearly a different type of holy water pilgrimage to his! He further amused us as he announced he was trying divine intervention for Brexit!.

I got latest msu results whilst in France. Relaxing and chatting and just being so well looked after. Not resorting to the holy waters I found Bunny W’s ice cubed wine worked wonders with the Nitro and Gent I had smuggled through customs. the bug was sensitive to both. Result. We had such fun. Such a chance to stop. Chat. Sleep.

Then home to bank holiday and Cornwall and family and more relaxation.

Driving back I thought I was, unusually for me, car queasy….that turned into major queasy as in uncontrollable queasy, by the time we got home. Pain shooting up and down my left side in other words either a dodgy sandwich or bladderations .

Off to hospital again, by taxi, due to a welcome home beer for D, towel and water. The towel ended up on the streets of London! Under Jerome’s instructions I was made comfortable as fast as they possibly could.

Another bug had seemingly found its way past the Nitro Gent combination. Was in fact resistant to those and created chaos.

So more iv. More fluids. More potassium. 6 days of. Argh.Then home briefly before next hospital admission…change of suprapubic on Tuesday. Jerome fixed everything. Smiling, calm, making jokes, telling funny stories all the way. He says he has been watching Fawlty Towers..we laughed at remembered scenes…the rat in the biscuit tin! ..How does he do that? I know for a fact he was phoned by the hospital at some time after midnight. That he then saw me in hospital at 7 am and again at 7 pm with undoubtedly 5000patients and 12 year old looking managers in between. I had never seen him awake. I will rephrase that. I had never been awake in the operating theatre before. This week I was awake. Jerome, bedecked in some kind of radiation proof apron still managed to chat and joke . His ever awesome anaesthetist was there too. She was there right at the start of this urologic odessy when I was transferred to London in 2011, 2 years after the start. Shit. That is 10 years ago. Anaesthetist has always despaired of her son’s maths ability. But I bet she on,y says that for distraction. He is doing GCSEs now. Bet she changes the story with each patient! What a brilliant lady she is. Chatting away. Helping Jerome fix the SPC . What a team. Wow.

Visitors to hospital were just amazing and wonderful as ever. Children: BFG and Daughter 2 nipping back and forth. D when he could, dodging between meetings and hassles. AT with his stash of healing grapes and smoothies. He even hid a bottle of Prosecco in the ward fridge. He wrapped it in his waitrose bag….’it says no alcohol in this fridge‘ he giggled.

Later that day…some of the infamous Yellow Cardies arrived. We had named our bridge group the Yellow Cardies after an exchange of letters to the Times. We wear a yellow cardie when we meet in honour of our patron saint IRENE

Like a book club that rarely discusses books we sort of play cards….indeed they wore their cardies, brought cards and even the baize. Withfun laughter oh my days it was just such a boost. Daughter 2 nipped off to find the the fridge and extracted ‘ the Waitrose bag’. Found some glasses. Poured them all a Prosecco and a bit for me. Worried about the drugs mix! What a party we had. So much so that as they left they asked: Is this really a hospital ? or a hotel? We have not seen one nurse come to look after you all afternoon!

Funnily enough, or not so funny really, it later transpired that Staff Nurse Basil Fawlty had not assigned me a nurse for the afternoon. The hospital seemed to experience a Fawlty 48 hours. Unusually drugs were missed. IV’s were administered brutally and painfully by Psycho Nurse. At which point I asked to leave …middle of the night or not. Having been persuaded to stay even the catering team seemed to think allergy to chocolate meant ‘bring on more chocolate’. Matron Sybil was incandescent when she found out. As for Manuel I imagine him offering me ‘ A chocolate biscuit with my rat’….. Nurse Polly aka new-nurse-assigned to smooth it all over by offering me a cup of tea. As you do. argh…. Fawlty Towers